For the second time in a month I awoke to a dead rat. One of these two I had taken back from someone who had adopted them and no longer wanted them. The other had been purchased at a pet shop by the adopter. The first I had had as a baby and she had come back to me as the most affectionate adult rat I had ever had...constantly rubbing her face into my hands and kissing me. The second couldn't stand to be held until I spent a few weeks with her. Then she was a bright-eyed happy girl who was excited to see me.
So they both died of unknown causes (I'll get necropsies).
Doing the business of rescuing animals, I have dealt with over 80 deaths in the past 3 years, but finding Conrad (yes a female) dead, I was as grief-stricken as I was 30 rats ago. I anxiously looked through every death and animal book I could find. Why? Why? I was mad at God. Mad at myself. What did I do wrong? She was young. I have three very old rats. Why not one of them? Why not Irene, who still won't allow herself to be picked up?
I finally came up with enough answers to get me through and keep me sane.
Now bright-eyed Sarah is gone. Yesterday all happy and full of energy...took her to be spayed and she came back half-dead. I nursed her and held her and begged her, but this morning she was gone.
From "Creative Mind" by Ernest Holmes:
"Learn to see God in all manifestation, in all people, through all events."
I now only have 18 rats to care for, so more time to care for me, more time to paint, more time to give the other rats. It's all I could come up with. My thoughts were interrupted by a very loud bird. I looked outside, wondering if Sarah had become a bird. She did love to move.
As I was typing this, I looked up and saw the shadow of a bird on my glass door. Be free, Sarah, but I will miss you.
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